When You Least Expect It
by largeandincharge
Summary: After the ill-fated kiss in the taxi and a 'proper chat', Louisa and Martin decide not to go forward in their relationship. Louisa quickly moves on, and Martin resigns himself to a fate of bachelorhood, convinced there will never be a woman who will accept him without judgement. But love often shows up when you least expect it...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I began writing this story nearly a year ago, and have finally gotten the courage to post it. Please be gentle! :) **

**Doc Martin and all characters owned by Buffalo Pictures; I'm just borrowing them! **

CHAPTER ONE

My day had not been going very well at all, beginning with that pestilence-ridden mongrel- the one that relentlessly follows me around- managing to snatch my stethoscope from my neck as I stooped to tie my shoe. I happened to be positioned right outside Louisa's cottage at the time, returning to the surgery after an early morning walk to the harbor. Louisa. The memory of our ill-fated kiss in the taxi the week before still made me uncomfortable and uneasy. I had merely been following a thought to its conclusion by mentioning my diagnoses; I certainly hadn't intended to make her so angry with me.

Looking back on it now, I realize it was not the appropriate time to be discussing medical matters. I believe it was the fact that she caught me completely off guard by kissing me that caused me to react that way. When I was so stunned and unsure of myself, I automatically reverted to something of which I am always very sure: my profession. When my mind is occupied with medical matters, I remain in control of the situation…and in this case I could quickly feel myself spinning out of control.

How was I supposed to explain that to Louisa? It seemed that every time we spoke, we ended up muddled and upset by the end of the conversation. Louisa used the word 'combative', but I preferred to think of it as the two of us never being on the same page. I never seemed to understand what was happening, what I had said or done wrong, until she was walking angrily away from me. Conversation doesn't come easily to me at the best of times, but with Louisa, it was worse. She never gave me enough time to process and formulate what I wanted to say before she became defensive and irritated.

I had wanted to ring her as soon as I had made it back to the village that morning—on foot, since she had unceremoniously shoved me out of the taxi into the road. But of course there was surgery to attend to, and soon everything was back to the usual hectic schedule. Perhaps I was only using that as an excuse. I am rubbish at apologies, and given my track record with Louisa, I was bound to put my foot in it again and cause another heated confrontation. I was becoming weary of our confrontations. For once, it would have been nice to have a normal conversation with her, one where I could miraculously keep from saying the wrong things.

After wrestling with that horrid dog and seeing Louisa watching the whole thing from her window, I returned to the surgery feeling as if there was a dark cloud above my head. I sincerely hoped it would be an otherwise uneventful day. Of course, that proved to be a ridiculous thought.

I made a home visit early to see Aunty Joan's friend Mrs. Steele, and diagnosed her with a sprained ankle. Aunty Joan convinced me to test Mrs. Steele's mental faculties as well, which seemed to be perfectly normal. I was aggravated to be called out in the first place, since there was obviously no emergency, but that fact was of no concern to anyone. My aunt is under the impression that since she used to change my nappies, I should make certain concessions. (I am reluctant to admit she is mostly right.)

On my way back into the village, I tried calling the surgery to let Elaine know I was running late for my first appointment of the morning. The phone just kept ringing until the machine picked up. My mood went from mildly disgruntled to legitimately angry; I would likely have patients waiting outside when I arrived because no one was there to unlock the door. Bloody Elaine…not that she was at all useful when she did show up for work, chatting on the surgery phone to her on again/off again boyfriend all day, but at least until now she had managed to show up on time.

I hastily parked the car only a few minutes past surgery opening. I was relieved to see no one was waiting, but Mr. Rix very slowly making his way up the road, in obvious pain. He gave the ridiculous story of being mugged and beaten as the reason for his cracked rib, which I didn't believe for a minute. That sort of thing just didn't happen in Portwenn. I wasn't sure about the real cause or why he chose to lie about it, but I didn't much care either. It wasn't any of my business, only so far as to treat his injuries, and I did so quickly.

As I was seeing Mr. Rix out of the consulting room, Al Large was sitting at Elaine's desk installing a new ink cartridge in the printer. My inept receptionist was still nowhere to be found.

'Al, have you spoken to Elaine? Do you know why she isn't at work?' I asked sharply. I vaguely knew the two of them had some sort of weird romance going on, and I assumed if anyone would know why she hadn't shown up, it would be him.

'What, she didn't call you, Doc?' he answered.

'If she had, I wouldn't bother to ask, now would I?'

'Right. I suppose not.' He rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. 'Elaine's gone to Pompeii.'

'She's what?' I exclaimed.

'Pompeii. Followed Greg there for some reason; I only just heard from her father last night. She didn't call to tell me herself,' Al responded casually, but I could see that it hadn't sat well with him.

'Well when is she planning to come back? And did she intend to inform me at some point, seeing as I am her employer?' I was furious.

'No idea, Doc. I really can't say what she's thinking…when she's coming back…really no idea.'

Well, this was just terrific. Now I had to hire another sodding receptionist.

Of course, then again, I hadn't technically hired her in the first place.

I would be lying if I said I was sorry to see Elaine go. I had attempted to fire her soon after my arrival due to her belligerence, non-existent work ethic, and complete ineptitude. The entire village had gone up in arms against me and became so hell-bent on making my life miserable; I had to rehire her in the end. I obviously hadn't wanted to, but I would have ended up with virtually no patients. I can't very well be a GP without patients, no matter how imbecilic and irritating they are.

Al finished his work and left quickly, merely nodding in my direction. He obviously could tell I was in no mood for a chat. Trying to file away my irritation, I called the next patient and showed him through to the consulting room, very aware that the surgery's waiting area was full to bursting with no one there to keep things in order. I mentally cursed Elaine once again.

As soon as surgery hours were over and I was alone in my kitchen, I poured a small amount of whiskey into a glass and downed it in one go. I very rarely consume alcohol, perhaps two or three times a year, and even then I limit myself to one drink. This evening, it seemed appropriate; my mind was still tangled with thoughts of Elaine leaving and the tedious task of finding a replacement. And then there was Louisa…well, she was often tangled in my thoughts. I knew I should talk to her and at least try to get back in her good graces.

Just when I had made up my mind to see her in the morning, there was a soft knock on the back door. I recognized her silhouette through the glass.

'Louisa,' I said, surprised.

'Martin, we need to talk,' she answered brusquely, determination etched in her features.

'Er…yes. We should talk.' I waited a beat then feebly added, 'would you like to come in?'

'No, thank you; I was actually on my way to the Crab to have dinner with an old friend. I wanted to come here first, though, and get this sorted. You're coming over to my cottage after surgery tomorrow and we are going to have a proper chat for a change.'

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. This was unexpected. 'Right. That seems…er, fine. What time should I…?'

'Six o'clock, and you're staying for dinner. All right?'

'Yes. Good.'

She gave me a small smile. 'Good. See you tomorrow, then.' And she was gone.

I stood holding the door open for a minute more, wondering what exactly had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: It's good to be back! Thanks for your reviews; keep them coming! **

**Doc Martin owned by Buffalo Pictures.**

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning when I had a few spare minutes, I rang Chris Parsons about my receptionist situation. I had made up my mind quickly that I was not going to hire one of the villagers if I could avoid it, and I was hoping Chris could keep his ears open for someone who may be suitable for the position.

'Hello, Mart, good to hear from you. How are things going? Everything all right?' Chris asked.

'Fine. Still marveling at the speed with which diseases here are spread. I don't think anyone here has ever purposely washed their hands,' I replied dryly.

'Ah yes, I see the Ellingham bedside manner has remained intact,' Chris laughed. 'You aren't fooling me; I know you secretly love living there. You're the best GP the area has ever had, at any rate.'

I mumbled a half hearted, 'er, yes….well…' I have never been any good at accepting compliments. I changed the subject. 'How are Sara and the children?'

'All well, thanks. The kids are growing like mad. Julia turns seven next month. Sara will be expecting you at the party, of course.'

I rolled my eyes. Sara Parsons had the exasperating habit of never taking no for an answer, particularly when it came to including me in their family celebrations. I had long ago giving up trying to make excuses to get out of them. 'Let me know the details and I'll check my schedule,' I told him.

'Good man. Now, I assume this call isn't purely out of curiosity about my children, so what is it?' It was refreshing, how Chris knew me well enough to keep the small talk at the bare minimum and get to the matter at hand. I appreciated that about my oldest friend.

I proceeded to tell him about Elaine's abrupt departure and my need for a new receptionist. 'So you aren't planning on hiring someone from the village, then? Surely someone local could fill the position,' Chris said.

'Absolutely not. I am prepared to hold out as long as needed for someone with at least some medical training, preferably a background in phlebotomy,' I replied vehemently. 'I want someone who will be a useful asset to the surgery, not some surly, dim-witted local with a penchant for gossip and malingering.'

He exhaled noisily. 'Well, I must say, that is a tall order. I'm sure you know it will be hard to find a soul willing to move to a rural location for less pay than could be made in the cities.'

'Of course, but I am willing to wait for the right candidate. I refuse to employ anyone who doesn't meet the criteria. Hiring someone who could take care of the surgery's blood work would make my job a lot easier. Maybe I could get through the day without having to resist the urge to vomit at least once,' I muttered.

'I would be glad to ask around for you, see if any of my colleagues have heard anything. Is someone at least acting as receptionist for you until you hire someone, or are you doing it all on your own?'

'At the moment all calls to the surgery are forwarded to my phone in the consulting room. I have to set my own appointments, but it has allowed me to pare down the number of patients I see in the course of a day. Not ideal, but I can manage for the time being. Since the school children just began their spring holidays and the weather here has been quite warm, it seems as though a lot of people have gone off vacationing elsewhere. It's not an especially busy time at the surgery, luckily,' I explained.

'Well, at least there's that,' Chris said. 'Right, I will put the word out and give you a ring as soon as I hear something.'

I thanked him and we said our goodbyes. I sat back in my chair, glad to have the task taken care of. My thoughts briefly shifted to my impending dinner with Louisa. Although I looked forward to spending time with her, I didn't hold much hope that the outcome of the evening would be favorable. Louisa was a lovely woman, bright, caring, and full of spirit, but so very hard to understand. My every attempt had been thwarted. Being fearful of making her unhappy with every word that came from my mouth was no way to begin a relationship, assuming she even had that in mind. I still wasn't exactly sure what she wanted from me.

I did know, however, that being kissed by her had been quite enjoyable. It had been a very long time since I had had the pleasure of being kissed that way. I was surprised at how much I had missed it, those intimate moments of spontaneous, shared passion. Although I hadn't experienced it very many times, the memories of being connected to a woman in that way sometimes made me long for that closeness. I wondered fleetingly if Louisa and I would ever have that kind of relationship; could we move past all the miscommunication and start fresh? Maybe dinner tonight would bring some answers.

I arrived at Louisa's cottage at the appointed time and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Louisa answered, seeming a bit harried.

'Hello, Martin…come in. Dinner may be a bit late…' she trailed off, hurrying back into the kitchen. 'My cooker is being very temperamental.'

'Is there anything I can help you with?' I asked.

'Yes, you can open that bottle of wine,' she nodded toward a bottle of Reisling on the counter, 'and the glasses are in the cabinet above the sink.'

I dutifully extracted the cork from the bottle and took down one glass from the cabinet. Louisa quickly filled the glass with wine and took a healthy sip. 'Aren't you going to have some?' she asked, eyebrows raised.

'No, thank you,' I replied. 'I don't drink wine.' She seemed surprised.

'What, never?' she prodded.

'Very rarely. It has a narcoleptic effect on me.'

'It makes you sleepy.'

'Yes.'

Louisa nodded once. 'Right. Well I hope you don't mind if I have some, because I think I may need it.' She took another sip.

'Not at all,' I assured her, unsure of what she meant by her statement.

Despite the dodgy cooker, the fish and roasted vegetables Louisa had prepared came out perfectly cooked. We filled our plates and sat at her small dining table, and for a few minutes we ate in silence.

'This is quite good, Louisa,' I remarked, attempting a compliment. I was rewarded with a smile.

'Thank you, Martin,' she answered. Another minute or two went by, and I heard Louisa take a deep breath and watched as she took another gulp of wine. At the rate she was going, she would soon empty the bottle.

'I want to apologize to you Martin…for kissing you in the taxi,' she said briskly. 'The whole night, all that we went through…I got carried away. You were just so…amazing, with Peter and how you handled all the blood and…how you saved his life. You saved his life, Martin. I just…well, it just happened. I'm sorry.'

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. 'Right,' I weakly replied. 'I…er…I'm sorry, as well, for what I said. I was merely trying to…'

Louisa held up her hand to stop me. 'No, there's no need to explain, Martin. You were being…well, you. And I think that is the whole point.'

'I'm sorry, I don't think I understand.'

Louisa sighed and sat back in her chair. She studied me for a moment, then said, 'Ever since I met you, Martin, I have had an attraction to you: your presence, the way you take charge in an emergency, the way you carry yourself. You impress me and intrigue me and make me want to know the real you. As Doctor Ellingham, you make me sit up and take notice.

'But we are just so different, aren't we, Martin? I wanted so badly to come to some sort of understanding-for a while, I thought we might be able to communicate more, spend time together as a proper couple. I sort of hoped we could at least stop bickering long enough to have a normal conversation,' she finished, exasperated.

'Er…isn't that what we're doing now?' I countered, confused.

She shook her head. 'I'm not really saying this very well,' she muttered. She placed her palms on the tabletop, and looking down at them, started again. 'What you said in the taxi, after the kiss…that is how you are. I just came to realize, that is what it would be like, wouldn't it? Random medical diagnoses at unfortunate moments, and you being rude to everyone I have grown up with and have ever been close to, and me always having to be the one to initiate any kind of intimacy or discussion or…anything. Because that is how you are, Martin.'

I sat silently, letting her words sink in. My face must have shown the hurt and confusion I was feeling, because she reached out and put her hand on top of mine. She gently said, 'that sounds harsh, doesn't it, like I'm criticizing. I really don't mean to. I'm not saying these things to hurt you, Martin. I am so fond of you, and there is quite a lot about you that I like very much…but when it's all said and done, there are things I need from you that you just…aren't able to give me. I'm sorry. I'm really, truly sorry…I wanted things to be different, but I have to be truthful, for the sake of us both. You do understand, don't you?'

There. There it was, the final answer to my question. Could we move past our differences to begin a romantic relationship? For Louisa, the answer was no. And although her words stung and saddened me, I felt a generous dose of relief mixed with all the other emotions swirling around my brain.

I cleared my throat and murmured, 'I do understand, yes. I'm just…sorry I can't be the man you need me to be. What you said about me is true; I am the way I am, there's not much I can do to change that. I don't feel I should _have to_ change.'

'No, of course not, and I don't want you to. You are an extraordinary man, Martin…but even you can admit we just aren't suited.' I nodded in agreement. 'I really do want you to be in my life, though…I want us to be friends. Do you think that could be possible?' Louisa asked wistfully.

I smiled shyly at her. 'Of course, Louisa. I'd like it if…we could be friends.'

The atmosphere of the room was completely different as we finished our dinner, as if someone had opened a window in a house that had been locked up for years, letting a fragrant breeze blow inside. I was surprised and pleased to learn that once the pressure was off, Louisa was much easier to talk to. It seemed that a friendship with her was ultimately the happiest outcome.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

'You see, Doc, it's my back…I was working on the pipes out at Mr. Murphy's place yesterday afternoon and I just felt something go 'snap' in there. Took Al an hour to get me up off the floor,' Bert Large explained to me as I prodded and examined the area he indicated was giving him pain. 'What d'ya reckon, Doc, could I have broken somethin' in there?'

I rolled my eyes. 'Highly unlikely. You didn't fall, did you?'

'No, just twisted funny while I was under the sink. I hollered loud enough to wake the dead, I can tell you.'

'Hmm. You've strained a muscle, which probably wouldn't have happened if you took regular exercise to strengthen your back,' I admonished. I had only advised him to do this about twenty times previously. 'I will prescribe you some muscle relaxers, and you will need to rest a few days-no heavy lifting or unnecessary bending. Come back in a week if it doesn't improve.'

'Right you are, Doc,' Bert said. I ushered him to the consulting room door and opened it to find chaos in the waiting area. There was one child running helter skelter while his mother ignored him completely, another loudly screaming and trying to bite the arm of the adult holding her, two old women bickering, and to add insult to injury, someone had let in that mangy dog.

'It's a right circus in here,' Bert commented, smirking at me. 'If you don't mind me asking, why haven't you hired a new receptionist yet? I know three people who could start immediately if you asked them…'

'None of your business,' I snapped. I loudly clapped my hands together and shouted over the din, 'everyone sit down and be quiet! If you haven't done so, sign in on the desk and take a number. I will see patients with appointments first. If it is an emergency, call an ambulance, and if you are here to waste my time, go away. And will someone please get that bloody dog out of here!'

The commotion had died down considerably by the time I took a break for lunch. I only had four patients scheduled for the afternoon, but I knew there would be a few people who would just show up and expect to be seen—there always were.

As I was heating up the soup that would serve as my lunch, Aunty Joan popped her head in the back door.

'Only me,' she said, coming in and sitting across from me at the table. 'Thought I'd come and see how you were faring without a receptionist.'

'I'm managing, at the moment,' I replied. 'Would you like some soup?'

'No, thanks, I've eaten. Now, when were you going to tell me that you and Louisa had another falling out?' My head snapped up in surprise.

'I _wasn't_ going to,' I said defensively. 'How did you hear…?'

'Oh, I heard from Mrs. Tishell, who apparently overheard a conversation Louisa had with someone in the chemist's. Something about you kissing Louisa and then telling her she had bad breath…but surely even you couldn't be that hopeless…'

I was indignant. The gossiping harpies in this village were positively infuriating. 'That is not how it happened!' I shouted. 'For starters, Louisa kissed _me_. And I merely suggested she may have rhinusitis or gastroesophageal reflux, which may be the cause…'

Aunty Joan's mouth dropped open. 'So it's true, then? For heaven's sake, Marty, you are completely impossible! And I suppose the rest is true as well…that she kicked you out of the car and left you on the side of the road?'

I didn't answer, but I could feel my cheeks burning. Aunty Joan took one look at me and shook her head, sighing. 'Right. Well, that's that, then. I'm not at all surprised, you know…chalk and cheese, the pair of you. You would have had quite a hard time making her happy, Marty…'

'Well, thank you for the vote of confidence,' I interjected with sarcasm.

'Let me finish. She would not have made you happy either. Let's face it, Marty; your personality is a bit of a challenge. It would take a patient and understanding woman to take you on.'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better?' I grumbled.

'But I know that woman exists, someone who will take you as you are and get on with it. You deserve a woman like that, Marty. I hope someday you will find her,' my aunt finished, and reached out to pat my hand. I felt a curious lump rise in my throat.

'And who says I need to find a woman?' I asked testily. 'I am perfectly fine on my own, thank you.'

Aunty Joan studied me before she spoke. 'Of course you are, Marty. But given the choice, wouldn't you rather have someone to share your life with? You are entitled to be loved and happy, just as much as anyone else. Maybe more so.'

I exhaled noisily and got up from the table. 'It doesn't really matter, does it? I have not been given that choice; therefore this entire conversation is moot. It's not as if there are droves of suitable women in this village, and as I'm sure you know, I don't get out much,' I exclaimed. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have patients.'

Aunty Joan shook her head, exasperated. 'I'll say one more thing and I'll be off.' She came to stand next to me, and I was forced to look her in the eye. 'Remember what I said, Marty. You deserve to be happy, just as much or more than anyone. There is no shame in admitting you want and need to be loved by someone, and to love them in return.'

The lump in my throat returned in full force, and I struggled to swallow it. Aunty Joan smiled at me, then turned and left, leaving me to compose myself before I returned to surgery. What brought on that burst of sentiment, I wondered? Although Aunty Joan had always been more of a mother to me than my own, and although I knew she cared for me, she carried the same Ellingham blood in her veins as I had. We Ellinghams weren't emotional, nor were we likely to freely discuss matters of the heart. Maybe it was how we were brought up, or maybe it had been passed to us from many generations before—either way, Aunty Joan's words were unusual and unexpected.

What was also unexpected was how they had affected me. There was a part of me that wanted her to be right, that there was a woman perfectly suited for me. The brief encounters I had experienced with Louisa had opened me up to the possibility that perhaps it would be nice to have someone to share my life with. I had spent a great many years on my own; I had become accustomed to it, and my life was far from terrible. I would undoubtedly continue in the same vein. It seemed likely that it was the way things were meant to be.

But that tiny thought kept niggling in the back of my mind: what if it didn't have to be that way? What if Aunty Joan was right? If the perfect woman walked through my door tomorrow, would it be worth the risk—risk of rejection, of unhappiness, and just general aggravation—to allow myself to have feelings for her? To _love_ her?

I sighed, my hands clenched into fists. Bugger it. This was all just a load of rubbish, and I didn't have time to bother with it. Time to get on with things as they were, beginning with the patients who were no doubt getting restless by now in the waiting area.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note****: Thank you to all who have been reading and reviewing! In this chapter, I use creative license with the timeline of the show, as well as paraphrase the conversation between Mark and the Doc from Series 1, Episode 4…we'll call it the "Big Boy" conversation. ;) **

**Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures.**

CHAPTER FOUR

By Sunday morning, the extra stress of things at the surgery had taken its toll. I was both physically and mentally exhausted, and planned to have a lie-in—something in which I rarely indulged. I was not scheduled on call that weekend and was looking forward to a day of peace and quiet. My latest clock project was in pieces on the kitchen table, and I planned to spend most of the day finishing the repairs it needed to become operable again.

I was able to sleep about an hour later than I usually did, and then stayed in bed a little while longer, enjoying the distant sound of the sea from my window. I was just thinking about getting up and beginning my morning routine when my mobile rang from the nightstand. I groaned loudly. Who on earth would be calling this early on a Sunday?

'Ellingham,' I answered testily.

'Mart, it's Chris. Sorry to call so early on your day off, but I think I've found someone for your receptionist position.'

I snapped to attention, sitting up in bed. 'Really? So soon?'

'Yes. I'm just as surprised as you are. The reason I'm calling is because she's available to interview today and is in the area—believe it or not, she's staying at my house,' Chris chuckled. 'The whole thing has been quite unusual.'

'Er…why is she staying with you?' I asked, confused. 'Who is she?'

'Sara's sister Rebecca came for a visit this weekend and brought her old college roommate along—the three of them spent the day out together yesterday, doing whatever women do on a day out…nails done or whatever…' Chris trailed off. 'Anyway, last night we all had dinner together and this friend, Anna, mentioned she was looking for work in the area. She just happens to be a registered nurse.'

'You're joking,' I answered in disbelief. 'And she's not working right now?'

'No, up until two months ago, she was working for a GP in London, had been for three years. She left the job to make an unexpected trip home to the States. She's American.'

'Oh, God,' I grumbled. A good portion of the Americans I had come in contact with in my career had been completely insufferable. Chris laughed.

'Now hold on, don't pass judgment just yet. She's very smart, warm, and funny…I think she would be perfect for you. She only got back two weeks ago and has been staying with Rebecca in Bude.'

'And she can't go back to her old job?' I inquired.

'She does have the option, actually. They offered, but she is really hoping to find something here in Cornwall. Now, I promised the kids I'd take them to Portwenn today for a romp on the beach, and we were all going to come and make a day of it—Anna too. Would you be available to interview her while we're there?' Chris finished. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was anxious for me to agree.

'Yes, of course. If you think she would be suitable, I trust your judgment.'

'Excellent! How does two o'clock sound?'

'That should be fine,' I told him.

We said our goodbyes and hung up, and I already felt as if a weight had been lifted from me. If Chris thought this Anna would be the right person for the job, then he was probably right; he had known me for a very long time and knew how I ran my surgery. I just hoped that she wouldn't mind if her nursing training was sorely underused, besides the blood work and the occasional jab. I supposed that would remain to be seen.

After showering, shaving, and breakfast, I had a bit of time to work on my clock…which unfortunately had quite a long way to go before it would be functional again. While I ate lunch, I used the time to think over some interview questions and important things I would need to tell the interviewee about the routine of the surgery. By 1:30 pm, I was in the consulting room making notes when there was a knock on the door. She was early.

But it wasn't my interviewee at the door; it was Mark Mylow.

'Hi, Doc…uh, look, I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but something has been worrying me and I was wonderin'…' he stammered.

'Is this a legitimate medical concern, Mark?' And if so, why did it have to be _now_?

'Well…um, yes, in a matter of speaking…'

I sighed, and opened the door wider to let him in. 'Go through,' I said brusquely, hoping to address the problem and get him out of there as quickly as possible.

I sat down behind my desk while he nervously fidgeted. 'Um, well…as you know, I haven't been hugely successful with…members of the opposite sex…' he began. '…and, uh, lately I've been wondering if maybe the problem is a, uh….size thing. Ah…apparently, no matter what a woman says, size…does matter.'

I stared at him dubiously. 'Um…take a seat,' I instructed. He sat across from me, looking down at the floor. 'Do you feel you…have a problem?' I asked.

'Well, you can't really tell, can you, so I was hoping you could tell me.'

'I should refer you…' I said weakly.

'I just thought you might know what's normal.'

'There's a range of normality…'

'It's not like I've measured…but do you think…six? Six would be normal?'

Oh, God. Was I really having this conversation? 'I'd say six was normal, yeah…yeah,' I quickly answered. 'Good. That's that sorted.'

Mark took a deep breath. 'Right.' He rose and moved toward the door, and I prayed that was the end of it. No such luck.

'So, sort of five-ish would be a bit…' he added worriedly.

'Not necessarily…' I backtracked.

'…and a bit…less than five wouldn't be good, would it?' Mark finished.

'I'd have to make inquiries,' I told him with finality. At this point it would have been hard to determine which one of us was the most uncomfortable. 'Really, Mark, I don't think you have anything to worry about, but if it would make you feel better, perhaps I could do some research for you…?'

His relief was palpable. 'Well, if you wouldn't mind, Doc, I would appreciate it. Thanks.' Eager to end our conversation, I stood and ushered him through the door of the consulting room. I glanced at my watched and was glad to see there were still a few minutes before my interview was to begin…if I could just get Mark out the door without any unnecessary, inane conversation…

'So, Elaine's gone, I hear…always was a flighty one. Haven't heard from her, have you?' Mark asked as we made our way through the waiting area.

'No,' was my clipped reply.

'Taking your time finding a new receptionist…can't say that I blame you; don't want just anyone coming in and taking over, I expect,' he went on conversationally. 'How's the search going, if you don't mind me asking?'

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Before I could answer it, I heard it open and a voice call out, 'hello?' And then the owner of the voice stepped in, causing both Mark and I to stop dead in our tracks.

How to describe her? 'Beautiful' wasn't the right word, though she was indeed very lovely—golden brown curls, full lips, and large, expressive eyes that spoke on their own. She exuded this…essence, warm and calm; it was like she was lit from within. I was drawn to her immediately. My heart quite literally began to pound in my chest like I had just gone up Roscarrock Hill at a dead run. She looked at the two of us standing there stupidly, and smiled. At that moment, I knew I was done for; it was all I could do to keep from falling on my knees in front of her. I felt giddy and breathless and confused…and absolutely ridiculous. God, what was the matter with me with me? I heard Mark inhale sharply beside me, no doubt experiencing a similar reaction.

'Hello,' she said brightly. 'I'm looking for Doctor Ellingham.'

I glanced at Mark, who continued to gape at her. 'I'm…Doctor Ellingham,' I answered, finding my voice. The woman walked toward me, hand extended, and I shook it in a trance.

'I'm Anna Harper…I'm here to interview for the receptionist position.'

'You're hired,' Mark blurted, and then realizing what he had said, blushed furiously. 'I mean…er, sorry…what I meant to say was I _hope_ you're hired…um, I mean…' Anna hid a smile, obviously amused by Mark's blunder. He recovered somewhat and introduced himself.

'I'm Mark Mylow, Portwenn's PC.' He turned to me. 'Um…right…I'll be off then, Doc. Very nice meeting you, Anna,' he stammered all the way to the front door, making his exit.

'Er…local law enforcement,' I lamely remarked, trying to gather my thoughts. I somehow had to regain some of the professionalism that seemed to have left me when Anna walked in. My brain and my mouth no longer felt connected to one another.

'I apologize for being a little early; I seem to have caught you off guard,' Anna said.

'What? No, no, not at all…please, come through,' I replied, and she followed me into the consulting room. I sat down behind my desk and took a deep breath, gesturing for Anna to sit in the chair across from me. 'Right…shall we begin?'

'I don't know how much Chris told you about me. I guess it's pretty obvious I'm American,' she started, 'but I studied in London after graduating high school and decided to come back to England about three years ago.'

'Yes, Chris said you had been working for a GP in London, but recently left the job to briefly return home,' I confirmed. 'What part of the United States are you from?'

'Virginia, about an hour east of Richmond. A tiny little town on the Chesapeake Bay,' she answered. 'I had some business to take care of there—I've been back in England two weeks.'

'And you're certain you don't want to return to London? Chris mentioned you'd rather find employment here in Cornwall. You do realize this position would be more filing and appointment setting than actual nursing?' I pressed. She smiled, causing my composure to waver once again.

'I'm looking forward to a slower pace, actually. London has its merits, but it's a lot difference since I was in college. And I've always loved it here. My father is a waterman—he's been a blue crab fisherman for over thirty years, so I grew up on the water. Portwenn feels a lot like home,' Anna explained. 'I used to come here quite often when I was in school; I dated a boy from Wadebridge.'

I could only assume visiting Portwenn was a far cry from actually residing there, where everyone knew the business of everyone else and had no qualms about discussing it. I was sure they would have plenty to gossip about if I hired an American to work in the surgery instead of one of the local imbeciles.

'You went to University in London…studying nursing?' I asked. It seemed odd for her to travel to another country for training when there were many good schools in the United States.

To my surprise, she chuckled. 'No. Believe it or not, I had a music scholarship to the Royal Conservatory of Music. I had every intention of becoming a concert pianist.'

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. The Royal Conservatory was a prestigious school. She must have been extremely gifted to be accepted. 'Quite a departure from nursing,' I commented.

'Yes, I just decided I wanted to do something more…useful. Of course I still play, and I give lessons here and there for some extra income. Being a concert pianist, though—after a while, it just seemed a bit silly, I don't know. I certainly don't regret my decision.'

Anna had brought her CV, and I scanned it briefly. Chris had been right; she seemed to be perfect for the job, and met all the criteria I had stubbornly held out for.

'Right…I think I have all the information I need. How soon could you start?' I asked, and she stared at me, surprised.

'You mean, that's it? I'm hired? Just like that?' Anna exclaimed.

'Well, yes…I certainly don't see why not. You exceed all the qualifications,' I answered. 'Do you have any prior obligations that would prevent you from starting immediately?'

She thought for a minute. 'No, not really. Obviously I'll need to find somewhere to stay; I'm sure I could continue staying with Rebecca in Bude until I have a place here, but I'd rather not commute if I don't have to.'

I stood to walk her out, and Anna stood as well. I couldn't help but notice how the jeans and jumper she wore accentuated the curves of her body. She was very petite—a foot shorter than I at least—but not rail thin; her proportions were soft and lovely. I wondered briefly how I was going to manage my daily duties as GP when I would have her in such close proximity. Would my pounding heart and racing pulse calm down once I was used to being around her?

'The, uh…pub has rooms to let, they may be able to accommodate you. There is also any number of vacation rentals…'I was interrupted by the sound of the back door slamming and Aunty Joan calling loudly, 'Martin, are you in?'

I opened the consulting room door to find my aunt standing there, looking very pale, her hand wrapped in a towel that had been soaked through with blood.


	5. Chapter 5

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**Doc Martin and all characters owned by Buffalo Pictures. You probably knew that.**

CHAPTER FIVE

My vision immediately tunneled and my stomach lurched. 'Aunty Joan, what have you done to yourself?' I asked weakly, trying to fight the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. I led her to the exam couch and then grabbed the dustbin that sat beside my desk, knowing there was a good chance I would need to vomit in it. All the while I could see Anna watching the scene, a look of concern on her face.

'Oh, I was working on the truck's engine while it was still running, and my hand came in contact with the fan blades. I don't know what I was thinking—bloody stupid of me, I suppose, but I've done it a thousand other times with no trouble,' Aunty Joan told me. 'Right, I'm going to remove the cloth…are you ready, Marty?'

I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead and upper lip, and I felt my gorge rise as the salty, metallic smell of blood filled my nose. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep from vomiting, but I reached for Aunty Joan's hand anyway and we both gently unwrapped the wound.

Then two things happened simultaneously: I was sick into the wastebasket and Anna appeared at my side, pulling on surgical gloves. 'Let me take a look,' she said gently, and examined Aunty Joan's hand while I regained my composure. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she rinsed the wound with saline solution, exposing several deep lacerations and a number of superficial cuts.

'Hmm…not nearly as bad as it looks. What do you think, Doctor?' Anna stepped back and let me take over, and I glanced at her warily.

I cleared my throat. 'Um…it will take a few stitches, but I don't think you've done any serious damage. You're right, Aunty Joan, that was a stupid thing to do.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Yes, thank you, Marty. Spare me the lecture, if you please, and sew me up so I can get back to the farm.' She turned her attention to Anna. 'I know my dear nephew won't introduce us, so I'll just get on, shall I? I'm Joan Norton. And I certainly hope you are the new receptionist…he would never admit it, but he's been running around like a headless chicken the past few weeks, trying to do everything on his own. Always had a stubborn streak.'

Anna flashed her gorgeous smile. 'Just hired five minutes ago, actually,' she answered, laughing. 'It's nice to meet you, although I wish it could be under different circumstances.'

'Nice to meet you as well…forgive me for not shaking your hand.'

'No apology necessary.' Anna turned to me. 'Doctor, what can I do to help you?' She didn't seem curious or even surprised about my reaction to the blood, and I wondered briefly if Chris had told her about the haemophobia. I also didn't get the impression that she felt sorry for me or that I wasn't capable—her offer to help wasn't at all patronizing. For that I was grateful.

'Er…there are syringes in the cabinet to the left of the sink, and a vial of lidocaine in my bag; if you could get them, that would be helpful,' I told her. I gathered the things I needed to stitch up Aunty Joan's hand, and Anna brought me the items I had asked for.

'So, you've hired an American girl,' Aunty Joan smiled wryly. 'That certainly will cause a stir around here, won't it? Anna, have you been in England long?'

Anna briefly told her what she had told me during the interview as I filled the syringe with the appropriate amount of anesthetic and injected it into Aunty Joan's hand. They struck up a conversation while I sutured the wounds, and they seemed to be getting on quite well, for two people who had just met. Aunty Joan was of the sort that never met a stranger, and Anna was apparently the same way. By the time I was finished, the two of them were laughing and joking like old friends.

'Well, Marty, how soon will I have use of my hand?' Aunty Joan anxiously asked when I had finished.

'At least ten days. You'll need to keep the stitches covered and avoid using the hand, or you will run risk of infection,' I replied.

'I was afraid of that,' she replied, morose. 'Well, that's just wonderful. I have three ewes ready to lamb at any minute.'

'You won't be in any shape to do it on your own.'

'Does that mean you're volunteering your free time to help out?' she asked sarcastically. I scowled at her.

'Don't be ridiculous. You'll have to hire someone.'

'And pay them how, Marty?'

'I'd be glad to hire someone for you,' I offered.

'Absolutely not,' Aunty Joan was vehement. 'I can certainly manage, thank you.'

I sighed. 'Aunty Joan, you're my family. I don't know why you won't accept my help with your finances; I have the means…'

'No, Marty. I refuse to take your money.'

We had this same argument frequently, and so far, I had yet to win. I didn't see any alternative this time, however; my aunt couldn't very well go about sticking her hands up the backsides of sheep in her present condition. My lip curled in disgust at the mere thought.

'Um, I may have a possible solution,' Anna interjected. We both looked at her expectantly. 'Forgive me for interfering…obviously, if I am overstepping my bounds, please say the word…but I need a place to stay temporarily, and you are going to need some help. What if I stayed with you until your stitches came out?'

Aunty Joan raised her eyebrows. Anna went on, 'And Doctor, I could start working here a few hours a day; that would give me a chance to learn the routine and how you like things done, but I could still be available to your aunt if she needed me.'

I had to admit, it sounded like the perfect solution, save for one small detail. 'Anna, you have experience working on a farm? Lambing?' I asked skeptically.

'Well, I've helped deliver a couple of human babies, I imagine the mechanics are basically the same,' she laughed.

'It's not rocket science, Marty—I'll be there to show her what to do, even if I can't get my hands in there myself,' Aunty Joan added. 'I think it's a brilliant idea; it would help us both out immensely!'

'It does mean you wouldn't have a full time receptionist for a little longer, though,' Anna said, looking at me with concern. 'Would that be all right? I know you wanted me to start right away.'

I sighed. 'Well, it's not the ideal scenario, obviously, but we'll manage. It'll be fine for the time being,' I answered. It was nice of Anna to offer her help to Aunty Joan; I supposed I could endure a little temporary inconvenience for her sake, at least. 'Once you're settled at the farm, we can sit down and work out a schedule.'

Aunty Joan smirked at me. 'You do realize when it comes to babies being born, you may as well throw the schedule out the window?'

I replied with sarcasm, 'yes, Aunty Joan, I think I may have read that somewhere during my medical training.' Anna giggled, and I glanced at her. 'Right. I'll leave the two of you to sort out the details.'

We all walked from the consulting room to the kitchen, and the two women sat down at the table, going over the logistics of Anna's arrival at the farm. Since Aunty Joan would need her there as soon as possible, there was some discussion about how Anna would retrieve her belongings from Chris's house in Wadebridge and Rebecca's house in Bude. In the middle of it all, my aunt turned to me and said unceremoniously, 'Marty, do something useful and make us some tea, won't you?' I dutifully followed orders, grumbling under my breath and wondering how long the two of them would be camped out at my kitchen table. It was still my day off, after all, and so far I had barely been able to take a breath. And then, of course, my mobile rang. It was Chris asking how the interview had gone.

'Fine…I hired her, if that's what you're asking,' I told him.

'I assumed you would. Tell Anna to meet us at the Crab when you're finished.'

'Right. At the moment, she and Aunty Joan are having a tea party in my kitchen,' I said dryly, and proceeded to tell Chris about my aunt's injury and Anna's offer to stay with her at the farm. Chris chuckled.

'Well…another interesting turn of events,' he stated. 'Tell Anna…'

'Tell her yourself,' I interjected, and handed Anna my mobile. Frankly, I didn't care if they all decided to hire a circus train to transport Anna's luggage to Portwenn, as long as they figured it out quickly and buggered off home.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX **

Anna began her abbreviated schedule at the surgery on Tuesday, after settling in at the farm by Monday afternoon. For the time being, she would work from the opening of surgery until lunch, and spend the rest of the day helping out at the farm. If Aunty Joan needed her for an emergency, we would work around it.

As expected, the village was bursting with curiosity about my American receptionist. Some found it to be near treason that I didn't hire a local…or at the very least, someone from England. Others found her intriguing—quite a novelty—and therefore took it upon themselves to find out her life story as soon as possible. As soon as the surgery doors opened Anna's first morning, the deluge of prying villagers descended upon us, filling the waiting area with gawking busybodies. Suddenly, every person with an ache, pain, or other complaint needed immediate medical attention.

Anna endured the onslaught with amused tolerance. She cheerfully answered the questions she wanted to and artfully evaded the ones she didn't. I wished she would just tell them all to mind their own bloody business and get out of my surgery.

During the times I escorted patients from the consulting room and retrieved the next patient's notes, I heard bits and pieces of personal details: Anna had just turned 33. She had a younger brother named Austin, who owned a restaurant in her hometown. Both of her parents were living, as well as her paternal grandmother, who still lived on her own at the age of 88.

It was Mrs. Croydon, Portwenn's most notorious gossip, who was bold enough to dig a little deeper. 'You're staying at Joan Norton's place, I hear…by yourself, I assume? No husband waiting for you?' I heard her ask. I paused at the filing cabinet, waiting for Anna's reply.

'No ma'am, no husband. Not anymore,' she answered lightly. I could see Mrs. Croydon waiting with bated breath for more information, but Anna instead turned to me and said, 'I believe Mrs. Croydon is your next patient, Doctor.'

I cleared my throat. 'Right. Thank you,' I replied. I glanced at Anna's face, wondering if the line of questioning had bothered her, but she wore her same cheery expression. I held back a smirk, inwardly glad Anna hadn't divulged any more of her personal life to the woman. Leave her to wonder—the old bat, I thought meanly, and ushered her into the consulting room.

The next day, five minutes after opening, Bert Large planted his sizeable girth on the waiting area's window seat and was still sitting there an hour later. He was shamelessly flirting with Anna, who was tolerating him with superhuman patience. I scowled at him.

'Oh, hi there, Doc,' he said brightly.

'Bert.' I handed Anna an order for a CT scan that needed faxing.

'I was just chatting with your lovely new receptionist here…she's smart as a whip, this one, Doc…did you know she plays the piano?' I mumbled an affirmation. 'I was telling her it sure would be nice to have some live entertainment down at the Crab some nights…they have that old upright piano there in the back, you know, hasn't been played in years. Nothing like a bit of music to soothe the soul, eh, Doc?' As Bert rambled, I saw Anna smiling, amused by the conversation.

'Bert, stop talking. Are you here for an appointment or to waste Anna's entire morning? She has work to do. If you don't have a medical complaint, then go away,' I told him severely.

'All right, Doc, all right,' Bert answered, and turning to Anna, took her hand and kissed it. 'A pleasure to meet you, my lovely…welcome to Portwenn, and if there is anything you need, I am at your service.' I rolled my eyes impatiently.

'Thank you, Mr. Large. It was very nice meeting you,' Anna told him with sincerity. 'I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other.' She glanced at me, and I cocked an eyebrow. That was an understatement.

Later that morning, as Anna was leaving, she knocked on the consulting room door. I was just finishing with one of the local teenagers who had managed to pierce her own eyebrow …obviously with disastrous results.

'What is it?' I barked impatiently when I heard the knock. Anna stuck her head in the door.

'Sorry to interrupt, but I'm on my way out…anything I can do for you before I leave?'

'No.'

'And you're still coming for dinner tonight, right?' she asked. The girl I was examining looked at me with interest.

'Ooh, got a hot date, Doc?' she teased.

'Mind your own business,' I ordered. I turned to Anna. 'Yes, tell Aunty Joan I'll be there at five thirty.'

'All right, see you then,' she answered, smiling.

Dinner at Aunty Joan's had actually been my idea. There were still a few details I wanted to go over with Anna about things at the surgery, and so far we hadn't had a free moment to discuss them. It seemed the sensible thing to get together at the farm, and since Aunty Joan's hand was still out of commission, I had offered to make dinner for the three of us.

After locking up the surgery, I made a quick trip to the market to pick up the ingredients I would need for the evening meal—fresh broccoli, new potatoes, and fruit. My last stop was to buy the fish that would serve as the main course. On my way out the grocer's door, I quite literally ran into Louisa.

'Oh!' she exclaimed as we collided, and I juggled my purchases to keep from dropping them. 'Martin, hello.'

'Louisa,' I replied. 'Sorry, did I hurt you?' I looked her over perfunctorily, and that's when I noticed she wasn't alone.

'No, no, I'm fine…' she saw me eyeing her companion and added, 'um, this is Danny Steele…'

'We've met,' I abruptly replied. This was the man who had burst into my consulting room the week before and accused me of not knowing how to do my job, all because he was convinced his mother was dementing. I eventually had gotten to the root of Mrs. Steele's problem (which turned out to be severe dehydration), but not before a few unpleasant run-ins with Danny. Suffice it to say, I wasn't particularly fond of him.

'Hello again, Martin.' Danny was certainly affable now. I mumbled a terse greeting, and he turned to Louisa. 'I'll just go pick up the wine…do we need anything else, Lou?'

Louisa's face colored. 'No, that should be fine.' Danny smiled and affectionately ran his hand over her back before going inside the grocer's.

I looked down at Louisa, fumbling for something to say. 'Uh…you…you're looking well.'

'Yes. Thank you. Busy, but…' she trailed off, biting her lip. Silence.

'So, you and Danny are…?'

'Well, yes…sort of…he's an old friend, really; we grew up together. He only just came back from London, and I suppose we just…'

I nodded once. 'Right. Well, that's…um…'

'Yes.' She took a deep breath and changed the subject. 'So, Martin…how have you been?'

'Fine. I'm fine.'

'Everyone is talking about your new receptionist…quite the scandal,' she chuckled. 'There hasn't been this much excitement around here in ages.'

I frowned. 'Anna is a trained nurse; she meets all the qualifications—exceeds them, really. Frankly, I don't care if she's from the United States or the Moon. I wish everyone would find a better way to spend his or her time than chattering about who I hired,' I exclaimed.

'There's no harm in a little curiosity, Martin,' Louisa said, her tone defensive. I opened my mouth to reply, but she stopped me. 'No, never mind. I don't want to argue. Look…it was nice seeing you, Martin.'

I sighed. 'Yes. Good to see you as well.' She held my gaze until Danny returned from inside the shop. I quickly said goodbye and went to finish my errands.

So. Louisa and Danny. I suppose I could see why she liked him; he was personable, charming, and stupidly optimistic. The exact opposite of me. But did he make her happy? Despite all the miscommunication and confusion between Louisa and me, that's what I wanted—for her to be happy. She deserved happiness. And if Danny was the one to bring it to her…well, so be it.

However, in my book, he was still and always would be a sanctimonious tosser.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

I pulled up in front of Aunty Joan's, retrieved the grocery bags from the back seat of the car, and let myself in without knocking. As I busied myself unpacking the bags and washing my hands at the sink, I heard Anna's voice from the laundry alcove off the kitchen. 'Joan, you didn't happen to see a random sock lying around, did you? I thought only American clothes dryers ate socks…'

I glanced up as Anna walked into the kitchen and quickly did a double take, my eyes widening. She was wearing nothing but a towel, her hair a mass of damp curls, and carrying a laundry basket. When she realized it was I in the kitchen and not Joan, she stopped dead in her tracks.

'Whoops!' she abruptly exclaimed. Whoops indeed. 'I…wasn't expecting you this early.'

I swallowed hard. 'Uh…last patient cancelled,' I weakly replied.

'Oh. Um…okay…' she gave me a sheepish grin. 'Well, this is awkward. Sorry, let me just run upstairs and…'

'Er, yes…uh…' I stammered, not meeting her eyes. As she hurried from the room, I stole a glance at her, and was rewarded with a glimpse of her freckled shoulders and her slender, shapely calves retreating up the stairs. The sight gave me an odd, giddy feeling, a sort of lightness in my head. God, what was the matter with me? Me ogling my receptionist this way was completely inappropriate.

What was it about this woman? Because, the truth was, this wasn't the first time Anna's presence had knocked me off balance. After my strange, visceral reaction to her upon our first meeting, I had hoped things would return to normal, both of us doing our respective duties at the surgery without another thought. But that wasn't the end of it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't just ignore her and get on—I was perplexingly drawn to her. When she was in the room, my hands shook. When she spoke to me, I stuttered like an idiot. What was worse, I couldn't seem to take my eyes off her, and had caught myself just gazing at her when I should have been working.

I didn't understand it at all, and it made me angry for not having more control of myself. This had never happened to me before. She was just a woman, for God's sake! One of countless women I had worked with in my career. Why was she turning me into an utter fool? I didn't even _know_ her.

I was determined more than ever to keep myself in check. This could not continue. If I ignored it long enough, eventually it would no longer be an issue. I was not going to allow Anna and my unprofessional feelings toward her interfere with my work or my life. It was time to stop acting like a hormonal schoolboy.

I took a deep breath and shook my head slightly to rid myself of the image of Anna wearing only a towel. No more, I chastised myself sternly.

And then Anna returned to the room, and I could already feel my resolve begin to waver. Dammit, not again.

'Is something wrong?' Anna asked quizzically. I realized I had been staring at her.

'What? No…' I started, nearly knocking the fish onto the floor. I caught it in time and asked, 'uh…where's Aunty Joan?'

'She may still be in the barn—we just delivered a lamb about an hour ago. This one had a few complications, so _that_ was an interesting experience,' she said. When she saw my look of distaste, she added, 'yeah, I'm not sure how my nursing training helped…too many skinny little sheep legs all over the place. Weird. And don't worry; I forced Joan to keep her hands out of the way. She wasn't happy, but at least she won't have to deal with an infection. That is one stubborn woman…but I'm sure you know that.'

'Yes,' I said in agreement, and continued with my meal preparations. Anna stood for a minute, studying me. 'What?' I asked.

'You intrigue me, Doctor,' she answered. She continued to watch me, arms crossed.

I raised my eyebrows. 'I…intrigue you?' I repeated.

'Yes, you do. For instance, I find it intriguing that you plan on cleaning that fish while wearing a suit,' she said, smiling.

I glanced down at my attire. 'Of course I am. What else would I wear?'

'Well, I think most people would at least take the jacket off. I'm afraid you're going to ruin it,' Anna persisted.

'I'm not most people,' I grumbled defensively.

'Oh, believe me, I've noticed you are not like most people. Absolutely nothing wrong with that, though…I kinda like that, actually.'

I was surprised. 'You…do?'

'Yeah, I do. Give me the strong, silent type any day, the intriguing type, over the person who is all talk and absolutely no substance. I've known too many of those…I was married to one, actually…' she trailed off. 'Anyway, at least let me find you an apron, since the jacket is staying on.' She went to the broom cupboard and brought back one of Aunty Joan's flowered kitchen aprons. She handed it to me saying, 'here you go…I think this color will really go well with your shoes.' I looked at her sharply, and she giggled.

'Sorry. Couldn't help it,' Anna apologized, still smiling. 'Now, is there anything I can do to help with dinner?' She was standing very close to me at the sink, watching me prepare the fish. The nearness of her was very distracting. I could smell the scent of her still-damp hair—sweet and warm—and it was clouding my thoughts and making my head fuzzy.

'Um…the, uh…potatoes. You could give them a wash,' I said gruffly, and then realized she would have to share the sink. Bugger. Get a hold of yourself, Martin.

'Okay, I'm on it,' she replied.

As we worked, the door opened and Aunty Joan entered the kitchen. 'Hello, Marty…we weren't expecting you so soon,' she said. 'Pink is a lovely color on you, by the way.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Very funny,' I grumbled.

Anna grinned up at me and teased, 'see? I told you!' I exhaled noisily and continued preparing the fish. 'How are things in the barn?' she asked Aunty Joan.

'Mother and baby are both resting comfortably. Only one more left to be born and this lambing season will be finished for another year. Marty, Anna has done brilliantly; our arrangement has worked out perfectly…I told her she should train to be a midwife; she is a natural at it. She has been such a big help here I will be sorry to see her go when my stitches come out,' Aunty Joan replied. 'Anna, you know you are welcome to stay here with me for as long as you like, even after you start working full time at the surgery. I'm enjoying your company.'

Anna looked pleased. 'I'm enjoying yours too; I don't know about you, but I feel like I've known you forever,' she said. 'And I wish I could stay here with you, but I just don't think it would be practical, being this far away from work. Not to mention, you would have to make room for a piano somewhere. I'm already going through withdrawal from not playing every day.'

'Oh, we could work something out if need be. In the meantime, have you met Roger Fenn? He would be the one to talk to about acquiring a piano, or the use of one. Marty, why don't you introduce Anna to Fenn; he seems to be one of the few in the village you are able to tolerate,' Aunty Joan instructed.

'Yes, all right,' I answered dutifully, though I wondered why I had to be involved, seeing as it had nothing to do with me.

'Right—I'll just go and get washed up. It looks like the two of you have things under control in here.' My aunt rose from the table, but stood watching us for a minute, an odd expression on her face. I glanced back at her from where I was making filets from the fish, and then moved toward the sink to wash my hands. Anna absentmindedly reached out and turned on the faucet for me, and when I was finished, she handed me a towel in the same casual manner. In both instances, it was as if she was a step ahead of my thoughts.

Aunty Joan continued to study us. I finally made the comment, 'I thought you were going to wash up.' Her scrutiny was beginning to unnerve me.

She narrowed her eyes at me and smiled. She used to give me the very same look when I was a boy and she suspected I was keeping something from her.

'Yes, I am,' she said slowly, then added, 'I was just wondering what you think of Anna, Marty.'

I froze. 'What do you mean?' I asked, a bit too defensively.

'I mean, how are the two of you getting along? At the surgery?' she pressed.

'Fine. Good.' My reply was abrupt, and I busied myself with arranging the fish on a tray, hoping neither Aunty Joan nor Anna would notice the blush that was forming on my face.

Luckily, Anna came to my rescue. 'I think things are going really well so far. I'm learning how he likes things done, and it seems to coincide with the way I'm used to working. We're both on the same page, I think. And since everyone is so interested in 'the new girl' at the moment, they're becoming less likely to waste his time during appointments. He won't say so, but I think he appreciates that. Poor man; all the small talk just aggravates the heck out of him, doesn't it?'

Aunty Joan raised her eyebrows at me. 'Yes, he's been that way for as long as I can remember. No bedside manner to speak of, I'm afraid,' she wryly conceded.

'You two do realize, don't you, that I am standing right here?' I grumbled. 'The least you could do is talk about me after I've left the room.'

Anna laughed, and Aunty Joan patted my arm as she exited. 'I'll leave you to it,' she said.

After coating the potatoes with olive oil, cracked pepper, and rosemary, I put them into the oven to roast. The fish would have to wait a while. Anna looked up at me expectantly, and we stood there a few seconds, not quite sure what to do next. I sort of hoped she had something else she needed to do and I could sit alone for a few minutes, if only to rid my head of the fog Anna had put me in.

'Why don't you sit down with me?' she suggested, motioning toward the table. I hesitated, and then sat rigidly in the chair opposite her. 'I thought since we'll be working together every day, we could at least get to know each other better.'

I cleared my throat. 'Um…not much to tell, really…' I looked down at the table, wondering what sorts of things Anna could possibly want to know about me.

'Well…do you have any hobbies? What do you do when you're not working?' she probed.

'I'm always working,' I answered, hoping she would soon get tired of asking questions. She pursed her lips at me.

'Oh, no you don't…no cop-out answers allowed. Come on, I'm genuinely interested.' She sat back and waited, and I knew she wouldn't be easily evaded.

'All right, what about you, then? What do you do when you're not working?' I shot back. 'Since you insist upon playing twenty questions.'

She grinned. 'If we talk about me first, don't think that lets you off the hook. But since you asked…when I'm not working, I play the piano. When the weather is nice, I go walking; I love being able to look out at the sea. I call my family in Virginia, or chat with them online. And I wear pajamas as frequently as I possibly can. In fact, if you weren't here, I'd more than likely be wearing them right now,' she finished. I gulped. Anna in pajamas was the last thing I needed to imagine, on top of everything else.

'Now it's your turn, Doctor,' Anna told me.

I sighed, then reluctantly replied, 'I mend clocks—antiques, ones that I find in shops or have specially sent to me.'

She nodded, looking satisfied. 'Now we're getting somewhere. That wasn't so hard, was it?' I grumbled unintelligibly. 'Now, you ask me one.'

'Anna, I really don't see the point in…'

'Doctor. I understand you don't talk much, but I find it necessary to occasionally have a conversation. Just humor me.'

I glared at her. 'Fine. Here's a question: are you always this annoyingly cheerful?'

She laughed out loud. 'No, sometimes I'm much worse! And what about you…were you born without the ability to smile, or did you forget how somewhere along the way? Seriously, it's starting to concern me. We may need to have you tested.'

Anna's words got the result she was looking for; I felt the corners of my mouth turn up slightly, in spite of myself. Her eyes widened in mock surprise. 'Oh my lord! It's a miracle! Dr. Ellingham has regained his sense of humor! Quick, someone alert the media…surely Portwenn has a newspaper…'she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes.

'I have a sense of humor,' I argued.

'Deep, deep…..waaaay deep down, maybe,' she conceded. 'You should definitely smile more often, though. You're cute when you smile.'

Cute? I'd certainly never been called 'cute' before. 'Rubbish,' I muttered, embarrassed, and Anna just laughed and shook her head.

'No sense of humor and can't take a compliment. You're a tough nut to crack, Doctor,' she said. Our eyes met briefly, and I was dazzled again by how warm and welcoming hers were, and how they wrinkled in the corners when she smiled. She was doing it again—drawing me in—and I could feel myself being pulled by an invisible line. I quickly looked away and stood from the table, turning toward the fridge.

'Um…best get the fish in the oven…' I said gruffly, and cleared my throat. I hesitated, deliberating. Then without turning around, I added, 'Anna, when we're not working, you can…um…call me Martin, if you like.'


	8. Chapter 8

**Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures; I'm just borrowing him. **

CHAPTER EIGHT

'I knew when this one got up the duff, I would be the one taking care of her sprog—oi, you, wake up and pay attention to the doctor!'

It was 3 am and I was in the sitting room of Jane Fisher, her sixteen-year-old daughter Caitlyn, and Caitlyn's six-month-old baby. I had been called by Ms. Fisher to examine the child, who was running a high fever and having breathing difficulties.

Caitlyn was nodding off on the arm of the sofa, chin in hand, and her mother prodded her in the shoulder again. 'I said wake up! Liam is _your_ baby, not mine, and it's high time you started taking some responsibility!' she chastised, her voice shrill.

'But Mum, I'm knackered!' Caitlyn whined. 'I haven't had a decent night's sleep going on two days now!'

'Well, my dear, having a baby isn't nearly as much fun as you thought it would be, is it? Maybe you'll remember that the next time your young man comes sniffing around…'

I sighed and yanked the stethoscope from my ears. 'Will you both shut up so I can conduct a proper examination?' I barked. I listened to the baby's lungs again, frowning at what I heard. 'Ms. Farmer…' I began.

'Fisher. It's Fisher, Doctor,' she corrected.

'Whatever. This baby needs to go to hospital—do you have transportation?'

The woman looked at me blankly. 'Of course not, Doc…why should we? Everything we need is right here in Portwenn!'

'Everything except a hospital,' I muttered.

'What's wrong with him?' Caitlyn asked worriedly, momentarily forgetting her fatigue.

'Pneumonia, possibly Respiratory Syncytial Virus…it's a virus common in young children. He'll need tests to confirm, and X-rays of his lungs. Go and call the ambulance,' I told her.

'Oh, the poor tyke!' Ms. Fisher cooed, taking the baby from me and holding him close to her. 'I know I complain about him, Doctor, but I don't know what I would do if something happened to him. He's such a sweet little boy…it's not his fault his mother doesn't have the brains God gave a sheep. He'll be all right, won't he?'

I glanced at her anxious face. 'Yes, as long as he goes in hospital as soon as possible to be treated, he should recover in time,' I answered. Her relief was palpable, and she cradled her grandson's head with her hand, kissing him.

'I can't thank you enough, Doc, for coming out in the middle of the night,' she said sincerely, tears in her eyes. Caitlyn returned to the room then and informed us the ambulance was on the way.

After waiting there for it to arrive and informing the EMT of the child's symptoms and my diagnosis, it was nearly 4 am. The foggy streets were still and quiet as I made my way back to the surgery, save for the odd fisherman heading to the platt. Despite my fatigue, I still had a fair amount of adrenaline running through me from being wakened so abruptly. There was no point in trying to go back to bed; I would have been getting up soon to begin my day anyway. I decided to take a more circuitous route, maybe seeing a bit of the sunrise before I had to be home.

As I walked, it occurred to me that I would be passing Anna's new cottage. She had moved there six weeks before, a tiny holiday cottage set off by itself, with a little glimpse of the sea. The owner had been very accommodating and was charging her a fair price for a long-term lease. Aunty Joan had tried to convince her to stay at the farm, but in the end was satisfied with the promise that Anna would spend as much time there on the weekends as she could. The bond they had established had been quick and strong, and Aunty Joan had made it very clear on several occasions that she considered Anna the daughter she never had. I was glad they got on so well, though their relationship also gave me an odd mixture of pride and jealousy that I didn't quite understand.

To my surprise, there was a light shining in Anna's front window. I slowed my pace and glanced inside as I strode by, and I saw Anna sitting at her piano, her face in profile. I could just hear the faint melody of the tune she played—something slow and melancholy—and I took a few hesitant steps toward the window to listen. I watched the graceful way her body moved as her fingers slid deftly across the keys. She exuded passion, sensuality; the nearly erotic quality to the scene caused the heat to rise in my cheeks. I almost felt like a voyeur watching her as she undressed. Catching a glimpse of her in this way stirred in me a longing I hadn't felt in many, many years.

My hands shook with the gravity of the realization, and I knew I had to get out of there before I was spotted. Just as I was turning to go, however, Anna happened to glance up, and our eyes briefly met. I quickly jumped into the shadows, cursing myself for my stupidity.

I had taken a few steps away from the cottage when the front door opened. I froze, still in shadow. 'I know you're there, Martin,' Anna said quietly, after a pause. 'There's no point in hiding.' I didn't move, praying she would give up and go back inside. 'Martin, don't make me come out there, I'm not wearing any shoes.'

Wanting nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow me, I took a deep breath and walked reluctantly back into the light from the window. I glanced at Anna, mortified, and saw there was a small smile on her lips.

'Come inside. I'll make you some coffee,' she told me.

'No! No, I was…uh…passing…um…' I stammered, clearing my throat gruffly, '…heard you playing…I, er…need to…'

She rolled her eyes. 'Come on, come inside. I'm awake, you're here…might as well be awake together,' she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. She held out her hand and waved me toward her.

With trepidation, I looked up and down the road, wondering how many nosy villagers happened to be watching. Luckily, everything still seemed to be deserted at this early hour. I blew out a breath and stalked to the door.

'Good morning,' Anna said cheerfully. I mumbled a half-hearted response, following her through the front door and into a tiny kitchen. She gestured for me to have a seat at the table.

'I'm having coffee, but I can make you a cup of tea if you prefer it,' Anna offered.

'Um…coffee is fine.'

As she busied herself taking two cups down from the cabinet, she casually said, 'now, I can only assume you are out this early because of an emergency and not because you're stalking me?' She poured the coffee, setting one cup in front of me on the table.

I snapped to attention. 'Of course I'm not stalking you!' I sputtered, indignant. 'I was on the way home from a call, and I saw your light…' I knew there was no plausible excuse for winding up right outside her window. Instead, I demanded, 'what are you doing up at this hour, anyway?'

Anna held up her palm. 'Martin! Relax. I was teasing,' she chuckled, shaking her head. 'Drink your coffee. And to answer your question: I'm up because I couldn't sleep. Which is stating the obvious, I suppose…'

I dutifully took a sip of the coffee and was surprised by how good it was—rich and strong, not too bitter. Anna sat next to me and proceeded to add two heaping teaspoons of sugar and a ridiculous amount of milk to the contents of her cup. I was appalled.

'No…what are you doing?' I groaned.

She blinked at me. 'What?' she said.

'This is perfectly good coffee! It doesn't need anything added…all of that is just extra fat and calories, to say nothing of completely ruining the flavor…'

'I haven't ruined it; this is how I like it.' She stirred her coffee and took a sip, smiling at me to prove a point. 'And I seriously doubt the extra 30 calories are going to kill me.'

'You can't very well claim to like coffee, can you, drinking it that way?' I exclaimed, wrinkling my nose.

Anna laughed. 'You look like a little boy when you make that face. All right, fine…I enjoy a hint of coffee _flavor_,' she amended. 'I'm very sorry to hear that the way I drink my beverages has offended you so deeply, Doctor.' She gave me a sidelong glance, and I realized she was joking. I pursed my lips.

'I'm not _offended_…' I mumbled.

'Besides, if I drank it black, I would never sleep again.'

I cleared my throat. 'There are, uh, several medical explanations for insomnia…caffeine intake is a contributing factor…'

'Oh, it's not chronic. Not insomnia, just a bad night,' she told me, shaking her head. 'Don't you have those sometimes? When you can't turn off your thoughts?'

'Well, um, yes…I do, occasionally.' I studied Anna as she sipped her coffee, entranced by her large hazel eyes and the handful of freckles dusting her cheeks and nose. There was no way I could tell her that she was, on those occasions, the reason I had trouble sleeping, as thoughts of her came to me unbidden while I waited for sleep.

'What do you do when it happens to you?' she asked conversationally, leaning back in her chair. 'What relaxes you?'

I averted my eyes shyly and placed my hand on the cup handle. 'Well…I find that reading sometimes provides and adequate diversion…' I answered. 'Medical journals, that sort of thing.'

Anna nodded. 'Well, as you heard, I play the piano. It usually does the trick.'

'You…uh…play very well,' I told her. 'I mean…I didn't hear very much, but…'

'Thank you,' she answered, smiling, cheeks flushed. Oh, what was I doing? Why was I still there, in the middle of the night? I knew I should thank her for the coffee and get out of there, back to my own familiar kitchen, where everything made sense. I shouldn't be here with Anna…but somehow, spending these moments with her in the early hours felt quite…comforting. I was beginning to experience and ease in her company that I normally didn't feel elsewhere.

'So,' Anna changed the subject, 'what was the emergency?'

It took a few seconds for me to understand the question. 'Oh…uh, infant with high fever, breathing trouble…I diagnosed him with pneumonia and possible RSV,' I answered. 'The ambulance just took him to hospital.'

Her expression was sympathetic. 'Poor baby—do I know him? Has he been into the surgery?' she asked.

'Yes, his grandmother brought him in last week with a double ear infection,' I confirmed. 'The mother is only sixteen, Christine or Catherine something…'

'Oh, Caitlyn Fisher. The baby is Liam, right? He was such a sweetie, those big blue eyes…poor thing. He's lucky his grandmother is willing to help out or God knows what would become of him. I got the impression Caitlyn is more immature than most of these young mothers, unfortunately,' Anna said. 'It infuriates me how ignorant these kids are about sex. I don't just mean here, either…they are just as stupid in the States. Do any of them come in to the surgery asking for birth control?'

Her frankness took me by surprise. 'Er…not very many, no,' I admitted. 'I usually don't see them until they need a pregnancy test, if then. It's not unusual for them to go full term without any antenatal care at all.'

Anna sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. 'And are there any other activities here in Portwenn for teenagers to get involved in besides sleeping with each other? Music or sports or…anything?' she went on.

'I…er…really don't know,' I answered. 'I try not to get too involved in community matters. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly Portwenn's Man of the Year.'

She grinned. 'Well, yeah, you're not really a people person…but not everyone can be, can they? I am fairly outgoing, and I do enjoy socializing…to a point. After a whole day at the surgery surrounded by people, even I am content to come home and relax instead of having a pint with a crowd of friends. I understand how you feel. And you _do_ care about this village, but in your own way. You show you care by being a great doctor and giving 110% to your patients every day. To me, that's more important than making an appearance at every social function.' She studied me for a moment, and then seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts. 'Anyway…we're completely off topic.'

'Um…right.' I paused. 'What were we…?' Her previous words had completely thrown me for a loop.

'Teenagers having babies.'

'Right.'

'I just keep thinking about how silly and irresponsible I was when I was sixteen,' she went on, rising from the table to retrieve the coffee pot. 'More?' she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

'Just a little,' I replied. She added more to my cup and sat back down, stifling a yawn. I surreptitiously glanced at my watch, and was shocked to see I had been there nearly an hour.

'I can't imagine having a child that young. The most worrisome thing in my life then was whether or not I would be allowed to skip piano practice to go to a movie. There is no way I had any thought of being a _mother_,' Anna finished with emphasis.

It was out of my mouth before I knew what had happened. 'You'd make a lovely mother,' I said quietly, and then froze, mortified that I had spoken aloud what I had been thinking. For a split second, Anna looked at me as if she had been slapped, then, swallowing, regained her composure.

'Thank you, Martin,' her voice was wistful. 'I always thought I would, too.'

We sat in silence a few minutes more, our conversation having come abruptly to a halt. I was mentally berating myself for not having more control over my tongue…telling Anna she would make a lovely mother? What in the hell was the matter with me? And where had that come from, anyway? It was obvious I had upset her, and this in turn made me feel all the more like an idiot.

'Anna…I, um…I've upset you. I'm sorry…I'll uh…I'll just be going…' I attempted to apologize. She looked at me with surprise.

'Oh, no, Martin…you didn't upset me. It was sweet, what you said…you don't have to go, not unless you want to,' Anna answered, shaking her head. 'I'm fine…really.'

I stood up anyway. 'No, I should get home…get ready for surgery,' I explained lamely, ready to save myself from any more embarrassment. 'I've taken up enough of your time.'

'Don't be silly, Martin! I've enjoyed your company.' Anna stood as well. 'I'm glad you decided to stalk me,' she added, grinning. I managed a small smile.

Anna walked me to the front door. Outside, the sky had lightened and the mist was beginning to disappear. 'So…I guess I'll be seeing you in a couple of hours?' she said.

'Er…yes. Good.' Our eyes met, and I nodded once. Then, I turned from the doorway and started on my journey home.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

**Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures.**

Summer had descended upon Portwenn, an unusually hot one that resulted in tourists flocking to the village in droves to enjoy the coast. Among the usual familiar faces in the surgery waiting room were quite a few on holiday; we treated countless jellyfish stings, cases of food poisoning, heatstroke, dehydration, and any number of other ailments resulting from poor judgment. Subsequently, Anna and I often had to stay long after closing to catch up on the daily duties that had been put on the back burner.

It had been several weeks since my late night cup of coffee with Anna, and since then, we seemed to gradually be spending more time together. That was somewhat intentional on my part. I found myself coming up with excuses to be around her more often. I very much _liked_ being in Anna's company—not just tolerated her, like I did with nearly everyone else I was forced to associate with. I looked forward to just being near her, even if we were only working.

To my amazement, she seemed to feel the same about me as well. She had dinner with Aunty Joan at the farm quite often, and Anna was insistent that I join them as often as I could. Sometimes we would drive there together after locking up the surgery, and watching Anna relaxed and happy in the passenger's seat gave me a feeling of contentment that was completely new to me. All of this was taking some getting used to; I had gotten so accustomed to doing things on my own. I had never minded it before…now, though, I missed Anna's presence when she wasn't there.

All of this was not lost on Aunty Joan, who cornered me one evening at the farm while Anna was out of the room. 'There's something different about you, Marty,' she announced knowingly, giving me that expression of hers. 'I think there's something you are not telling me.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' I replied dryly.

She smirked. 'Of course not. Right, then, no need to say anything. I've seen all I need to see. I'll say one thing: you and Anna are _not_ chalk and cheese, far from it in fact. She's the first woman I've seen who never seems to get offended, aggravated, or even surprised by your dreadful attitude. Don't waste any time, Marty—it's obvious how you feel about her, you know.'

I nearly dropped the plate I had been drying. 'No, I do not know!' I sputtered, agitated. 'Having…_feelings_…for my receptionist would be unprofessional and…_completely_ inappropriate. And furthermore…just…mind your own business!'

'So you don't deny having feelings for her, you just think they are inappropriate and unprofessional,' Aunty Joan prodded, rolling her eyes. 'Oh Marty, don't be so ridiculous! You like her, she enjoys being in your company—although for the life of me I can't think why—and so far she has neither slapped you or thrown you out of a moving vehicle for saying something horrible. To me, that speaks volumes. So what's the problem?'

'_Just leave it_,' I hissed at her as Anna returned to the kitchen. What was the problem? I was just as surprised as Aunty Joan that Anna and I got along so well, and in the back of my mind, there was always the certainty that it couldn't possibly last much longer. I was bound to do something to spoil it—look how things had gone with Louisa, after all. I seemed to have a genius of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

XXXXXXXX

My mobile rang one early afternoon as I was beginning my lunch. Anna had just come in through the back door, where she had been filling a bowl of water for the mutt that was still making my life miserable. Despite many attempts at getting rid of him, he blatantly refused to stay away from me. Every time the surgery door opened, he bolted inside like he owned the place, and he continued to follow me around the village wherever I went. I prayed daily that he would somehow accidentally wander off a cliff, but so far, my dream was unrealized.

'Anna, I told you, if you feed that bloody animal, I will never be rid of it!' I exclaimed crossly, reaching for my mobile as it buzzed on the tabletop. I glanced at the number; it was one I didn't recognize.

'I'm not feeding it, but I'm not going to deny it a drink of water—it's hot out there, Martin,' she replied. I rolled my eyes.

'Ellingham!' I barked into the phone.

'Hello, Martin.' Although I hadn't heard it in quite a while, I recognized the voice immediately.

'Dad?' I couldn't hide my surprise. 'Is everything…um, why are you…'

'Your mother and I just boarded the train to Bodmin; we arrive at 6:15 this evening,' he stated without any attempt at small talk. 'I trust you can make it to the station to meet us?'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Um…yes, I can be there…'I stammered. 'Are you coming to visit Aunty Joan?'

'Joan doesn't know we're coming. We heard you were in Cornwall now, and we thought we'd come and visit, do some catching up. Your spare room will do fine for a few days. I'm assuming you have a spare room…perhaps you can't afford one on a GP's salary,' he said vaguely.

'No, of course I have one,' I told him, on edge. Anna looked up at me with curiosity from where she was seated, eating from a container of yogurt. I glanced at her, uncomfortable. 'That would be fine. I'll have it ready for you.'

I hung up and sat back in my chair, closing my eyes briefly and rubbing them. When I opened them, Anna was looking at me with concern. 'That bad?' she asked quietly.

'Um…parents, on the way for a visit,' I answered.

There was a pause. 'Short notice,' she commented. 'Has it been long? Since you last saw them?' Her voice was gentle.

I swallowed, then said gruffly, 'seven years.' I quickly rose from the table, no longer hungry, and disposed of the rest of my lunch in the bin. 'Reschedule my last three appointments, please.'

'Of course,' I heard Anna say as I left the kitchen.

I was by no means looking forward to spending time with my mother and father. As an adult, we had rarely communicated, and I hadn't thought it necessary to inform them of my sudden failure to perform surgery or the humiliating descent from top vascular surgeon in the city to GP in the backwaters of Cornwall. Seeing as my father had also been a surgeon and had maintained his status in the medical profession, it was really only a matter of time before he heard about the death of my surgical career.

As far as my parents were concerned, I had been a disappointment from the word go. I had never been enamored with social status or all the trivial things people with money deemed important. I drove a nice car, but modest by their standards. My flat in London was large enough to accommodate me alone—by no means extravagant—and I found all the charity functions, cocktail parties, and social gatherings to be a complete waste of my time. I had also neglected to acquire a vapid trophy wife, which only further proved to my father how utterly hopeless I was with members of the opposite sex. This fact was especially embarrassing to him, who had charisma and charm that made every woman he came in contact with ready and willing to do his bidding.

It made no difference that I was now in my forties and had had a long and very successful career; with just one short phone call, the feelings of inadequacy I had been harboring since I was a child had pushed their way to the fore. I wondered the real reason for my parents' impending visit; I knew with certainty they were not coming to just 'catch up'. I began to mentally prepare myself for what I hoped would be a brief stay.

XXXXXX

Meeting my mother and father at the train station proved to be as awkward as I had imagined it would be, and the car ride back to Portwenn was equally uncomfortable. It certainly didn't help the situation when I stopped to pick up a stranded Danny Steele from the side of the road, along with enough building equipment to erect a house. He was his usual annoyingly talkative self in a car full of Ellinghams; I think we were all equally happy when I dropped him off at his mother's house, which he was in the process of remodeling. Before I got back in the car, I reluctantly mentioned the persistent cough from which he was suffering, and strongly advised him to wear a mask while he was working. I held little hope, however, that he would actually take the advice.

Upon arrival back at the surgery, my mother went straight up to bed without a word to anyone. My father and I made strained conversation while he got settled, and then he was off to the pub for a nightcap and, as he put it, 'someone who would provide better company'. He still hadn't mentioned the reason for being in Portwenn, and I spent a long time mulling it over that night when I should have been sleeping.

Author's note: I want to thank all of you who are still faithfully reading this story! Feedback is helpful and extremely welcome, not to mention a great boost to my ego. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

'Forty years of my life wasted…

_because of you.'_

I stood in front of the surgery, looking out to sea. My mother's words repeated themselves in a loop in my head: that I had ruined her life, ruined her marriage. That she had been happy until I had come along. All these years, I had always held a faint hope that something I did would finally make her proud of me, make me worthy in her eyes. Even after I stopped actively seeking her approval as a young boy, when I realized she would never be the mum that hugged and comforted, would never spend time listening to my childish banter…in the back of my mind, I always thought she would someday have room in her life for me.

The finality of her words ripped away something inside me-that last tiny shred of hope that underneath it all, my mother loved me. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. I felt a sickening emptiness and a horrible sense of shame. I knew this was very likely the last time I would see my mother; yet even after hearing the horrible things she said, that knowledge didn't make me feel one ounce of happiness, only the overwhelming urge to vomit.

As I struggled with the emotions that flooded through me, Anna walked out of the surgery to go home for the night. I didn't want anyone to see me this way, so vulnerable and exposed…the very least of all Anna. I mentally pleaded with her to leave me alone and go away quickly. Instead, to my horror, she stood next to me. She actually reached out and touched me on the arm. I flinched as if I had been burned; my entire body felt like one great exposed nerve, raw and excruciating.

'What is it, Anna?' I said impatiently. _Please, just go home,_ I silently pleaded. I didn't look at her…couldn't look at her, or I would surely fall to pieces.

'I know something is bothering you,' she began quietly, and I heard genuine concern in her voice. 'I just…wanted to see if you are okay.'

'I'm fine,' I replied, my teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

'Whatever it is, I just…'

'Anna, go home,' I said, my tone a warning.

'All right,' she added, 'but I want you to know that you can talk to me, anytime you need to. You have my cell number. You know, you _can_ trust me, Martin…'

This was too much. I could feel the frustration and anger rising in me, and I turned on her. 'Anna, shut up!' I barked, and stormed back into the surgery. Unfortunately, it wasn't before I saw the hurt expression on Anna's face. I regretted my words as soon as they had left my mouth, but I couldn't stand there any longer without breaking down completely.

I robotically prepared my evening meal and ate without tasting it. The simple act of cooking seemed to clear my head a little, and although I was still hurt and angry and raw, I felt much more in control of my emotions than I had earlier. As I was washing up the dishes after supper, I began to think of Anna and how I had shouted at her. It was unfair of me; she really seemed as if she cared I was upset. She was only trying to help, and I had lashed out at her. I knew I had to apologize…no, I wanted to apologize. There was a difference.

And, as if she knew I had been thinking about her, she was there at my back door, knocking softly. I took a deep breath and opened it, and was shocked when she immediately took two steps toward me and put her arms around me. She slipped them right under my suit jacket, and I could feel her warm skin against the back of my shirt as she embraced me. I stood there like a statue, at once wondering what the bloody hell she was doing and not caring because it felt so lovely.

'Anna?' I said quizzically. She looked up at me. 'What…why are you…' I stammered.

'You had better get used to the hugging, Martin, because I'm going to keep doing it. Whether you like it or not,' she replied fiercely.

'Uh…um, why…?'

'Because you need hugging more than anyone else I have ever met in my entire life, that's why. You are long overdue.' I was at a complete loss for words, and just stood gaping at her. She went on. 'You obviously had a crap day, and I'm sorry. And the offer still stands: if you need someone to talk to, or just want company, I am always available. Believe it or not, I actually like you…you are trying your damnedest to convince me otherwise, but it's not going to work. My mind is made up now. _You can_ _trust me_, all right?'

I…er…yes, well…'

'But don't you _ever_ tell me to shut up again, Martin Ellingham. That was disrespectful and hurtful. I am not a barking dog,' she finished, looking at me with shining eyes. Were those tears? Oh God, I had made Anna cry. I winced.

'Yes, I wanted to tell you…I'm sorry about that,' I told her, contrite. 'I shouldn't have shouted at you. I apologize.' I am usually rubbish at apologies. I hate admitting I'm wrong, on those limited occasions when I actually am. But saying that to Anna was a relief: I didn't like the thought that I had hurt her, or that she was angry with me.

She broke the embrace and stepped back, and I can't deny that I was sorry. Aside from an occasional hug from Aunty Joan, I was not used to that sort of physical contact—I had never really known anyone that was demonstrative when it came to affection. But Anna's arms around me had felt good…no, not just good. Wonderful. Normal. Like I had found a part of me that had been missing-the final piece of a puzzle that fit perfectly, after other pieces had failed to join up properly. She had told me to get used to the hugging. I found the idea to be something I wouldn't mind getting used to at all.

'It's okay; I'll forgive you this time,' she answered, smiling. 'Sorry…I know it's odd, me coming over here to hug you…and you probably think it's silly; I just know it makes me feel better when I'm having a rotten day.'

I cleared my throat. 'That's…um…that's all right. It's fine.' It was more than fine, but I wouldn't dare tell her that. 'Would you like to come in?'

'I won't bother you; I'm sure you want a little time to yourself, after the week you've had,' she said ruefully. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

I wasn't ready for her to leave yet. 'No, come in…please,' I told her. 'I'd…like you to.' She smiled up at me, and I stepped aside to let her in. I led her into the sitting room where we sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Anna slipped off her sandals and tucked her legs under her. 'Have they gone, then?' she asked. I assumed she was referring to my parents.

'Yes,' I answered with finality.

'Thank God.' She exhaled and sat back against the cushions. 'Martin, I don't mean to be rude, but your parents are just awful.'

I blinked, surprised, then agreed with her. 'Yes. They are, aren't they?'

She looked at me sheepishly. 'I'm sorry. I really tried to like them, but the whole atmosphere while they were here was just…toxic.'

'Well, I know Mum wasn't talking, but Dad usually makes a better impression,' I began. She gave me a wry smile.

'As far as your mother was concerned, I was completely invisible—she didn't say one word to me the entire time she was here,' Anna exclaimed. After a pause, she chuckled. 'Your father, on the other hand…'

The way she said it made my heart sink. 'What did he do?' I asked, even though I had a feeling I already knew. I had watched with increasing dismay as he flirted with her, but that didn't really surprise me—he flirted with every woman he met. Later, however, he made it clear what he thought of Anna.

'My God, Martin, that receptionist of yours is an absolute stunner! If I didn't know you, I would ask if you'd had a go at her yet…but you never were any good with the ladies, were you? You'd have to drug them to keep them,' he told me. 'If I had her around every day, I'd never let her leave the bedroom, I can tell you.'

I looked at him with disgust. 'Yes, and I'm sure Mum would be so pleased to hear it,' I said sarcastically.

'Oh, come on, Martin, I'm only having a bit of fun. Don't be such an old woman.'

Anna brought me out of my reverie. 'When he invited me out for a drink, I thought he was just being polite,' she said, 'but when he grabbed my ass, I had to rethink the situation.' She looked at me with amusement. My mouth dropped open.

'Oh, God…' I muttered. I could feel the anger boiling in me, embarrassed and furious with my father for doing such a thing to her.

'It's all right, Martin; honestly, I may have been offended if he wasn't so pathetic. What made me dislike him the most was the way he spoke to you—the way he berated you and the snarky comments about you being a GP—it just made me sick. Has he always like that?' she asked angrily. 'You don't have to answer that, of course he has. And it's a good thing you are nothing like him, Martin, or I probably would have quit a long time ago.'

I was stunned. It was the first time I could remember someone not being completely enamored and charmed by my father. He was a gifted surgeon, extremely successful in his career. His work colleagues were his friends, and they all enjoyed having a pint together at the pub, where he held court and kept them all laughing and having a good time. All his friends' wives were dazzled by his good looks and charisma.

Somehow, and in very short order, Anna had recognized the man _I_ knew, the man not hidden by the façade he wore for everyone else. She had seen the father that had belittled me since I was a child and bullied me into adulthood. She had actually said he was awful, and pathetic…and that I was nothing like him.

I didn't speak, unsure of what to say. I briefly thought of telling her what my mother had said to me, that horrible speech in the kitchen, but the burning shame of it was still too new. Every time I thought about it, a painful lump formed in my throat that made it difficult to swallow. I didn't want Anna to know that my own _mother_ didn't even love me…how could anyone recover from the shame of those words?

'Well…uh…they are gone now, and not likely to be coming back. Best to just get on,' I gruffly replied. 'I _am_ very sorry, though, for what my father did…it's inexcusable, the way he behaved toward you.'

Anna smiled at me, reaching over to pat my knee. 'It's really okay. I know I'm not very big, but believe me, I can hold my own. My Daddy taught me young how to stand up for myself if the boys started getting too friendly—I put my date to the senior prom in the emergency room,' she said cheerfully. My eyes widened.

Anna stood up from the sofa, and I followed her toward the back door. Before she left, she turned to me one last time, her expression serious. 'I really am sorry you had a bad day, Martin. I'm sorry for the way you were treated by your parents; you didn't deserve any of it. There is so much about you to be proud of,' she told me, her hazel eyes fixed on my own. I felt the lump return to my throat in full force.

Before I could answer, she put her arms around me again, holding me tightly. 'You don't mind, do you? If I hug you? I promise I won't do it in public,' she chuckled.

I cleared my throat. 'Uh…no. No, I don't mind,' I told her, silently relishing in her touch. I hesitated, and then slowly put my arms around her, returning the embrace.


	11. Chapter 11

**Doc Martin and all characters owned by Buffalo Pictures.**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As I lay in bed that night, I began thinking about the disastrous visit from my parents and all the turmoil they had caused—not just for me, but also for Aunty Joan. I was furious and disgusted with my father for stooping so low as to ask for half the share of her farm; until he needed the money, he couldn't have cared less about the place. As much as I hated the idea of giving him any money or support whatsoever, selling my flat in London was the best decision I could have made, if it made him go away and leave Aunty Joan alone once and for all. As I told him before he left… _she_ was my family, the only one who ever cared what would become of me. For that, I would do anything to make her life easier.

When thinking about the whole situation began to make my head ache, my thoughts turned to Anna. For starters, I had been surprised at the telling-off Anna had given me for snapping at her to 'shut up'…and equally as surprised at her willingness to accept my apology and move on. I thought about her quiet assurance that I could trust her, that she would always be available if I needed her. But mostly, I relived the feeling of Anna's arms around my waist, offering –and providing—a source of comfort in an otherwise horrendous day. When I finally drifted off to sleep, I immediately began dreaming of her.

In the dream, the two of us were seated in a huge field of lush, green grass, high up on a hill overlooking the sea. The sun had almost finished its descent into the night and it was nearly dark. I sat with my back against a tall tree, with Anna in front of me, her back against my chest. I held her with both my arms wrapped tightly around her. I wasn't wearing a suit jacket or tie, and the sleeves of my dress shirt were casually rolled up to my elbows. A large tartan plaid blanket was draped over our legs, its warmth warding off the chill of the evening. I gently brushed her hair from her neck and placed a kiss just behind her ear, and she breathed a sigh of contentment, cuddling even closer to me. Neither of us spoke a word in the dream, but I remember feeling completely at peace, as if the two of us were in a private oasis of calm.

Had I ever felt so content in my waking hours? Was there ever a time in my life when I had been so comfortable in the company of another person that I could completely relax, like in that field of grass with Anna? Was it something that could _ever_ possibly happen, or was it something I could obtain only in sleep? The dream had been so vivid; I could smell the fragrance of the grass, mingled with Anna's distinctive warm sweetness. For several minutes after I woke, I could still feel the presence of her, the way her body felt pressed against me. I stayed in bed far longer than I should have, unwilling to stop my mind from replaying the details of the dream.

Consequently, I was running a bit late when I went downstairs that morning, and Anna was already sitting at her desk, talking on her mobile phone. Seeing her there made me feel awkward and embarrassed, even though there was no way she could have known I had spent a good portion of the night and morning thinking about her.

'I'm fine, Granny…yes, of course I am,' I heard her say. She smiled up at me and whispered, 'good morning!'

I mumbled a reply as she went on with her conversation. 'Granny! Yes, I'm eating enough…too much, really…no, Granny, it's August; I haven't had to break out the thermal underwear. No, no chance of freezing to death, at least not yet,' she chuckled. Glancing up at me as I stood trying to pretend as if I wasn't listening, she went on. 'Yes ma'am, the doctor is taking good care of me…we're getting along fine. No, I really love working here! Well, yeah, he has his moments, but he's not nearly as grouchy as he was in the beginning.'

My head snapped to attention from the filing cabinet, and she gave me a huge, mischievous grin. 'He's kind of a big teddy bear once you get to know him.' My mouth dropped open, indignant, and she laughed silently as I scowled at her and stalked from the waiting area into the kitchen. A big teddy bear…the very idea…I tried to remain appalled, but felt the corners of my mouth curve into a smile, feeling a curious pleasure at her description.

XXXXXX

My last patient of the day was Emma Williams, who was nineteen years old and quite visibly pregnant. From her patient notes, I gleaned that the last time she had been to the surgery was at the age of twelve and had been suffering from tonsillitis.

'Go through,' I gestured toward the consulting room door. She stayed seated, glancing at Anna with a panicked expression.

'Doctor, may I speak to you in the other room?' Anna asked, rising from her desk. I looked at her blankly.

'I have a patient,' I stated the obvious.

'We'll be right back, Emma—you just sit tight,' Anna told the girl, and nudged me gently toward the hallway.

'What is it, Anna?' I looked down at her crossly, wondering what was so urgent that needed to be discussed at that very moment.

'It's about Emma,' she replied quietly. 'I met her a month ago, and it's taken me this long to convince her to come in for an exam. Up until now, she has had no prenatal care, and she is absolutely terrified. If you wouldn't mind, she would like me to go in with her while you check her; she was too scared to ask you herself.'

'I, uh…yes, that's fine,' I told her. I appreciated that she discussed it with me first instead of just getting on with it; it was nice to be respected as the doctor in charge. Not many others seemed to bother.

She smiled at me. 'Thank you,' she said. I nodded, and Anna went back to the waiting area to bring Emma in for her exam. She and Anna both sat down across from my desk as I asked questions regarding her medical history. Emma answered them in a soft, shy voice.

'And the father of this baby—is he in the picture?' I asked.

She glanced at Anna. 'My husband, Sean…we got married in April,' she said slowly. 'We decided we should go ahead when we found out…'she trailed off, looking down at her distended belly.

'Right.' I made some notations in her file. After getting her weight and blood pressure, which were both well within the normal limits, I instructed, 'go behind the screen and remove your clothes from the waist down, please.' Emma looked at Anna, her eyes filled with terror, but Anna took her hand and squeezed.

'It's all right, Emma. The doctor is just going to make sure you and your baby are healthy. He'll listen to the baby's heart and measure your tummy to see how big it's getting. Nothing to worry about—and I'll be right here with you, okay?' Emma nodded, but she didn't look too convinced. I impatiently pursed my lips…what in the world did she think I was going to do, pull out her fingernails one by one? Anna went on. 'Doctor Ellingham is going to take very good care of you. I know he's big and intimidating and doesn't ever smile, but he's really quite nice once you get to know him. Not to mention the best doctor in Cornwall.' Anna grinned at me, and I cocked an eyebrow.

'Yes, all right…let's just get on, shall we?' I testily replied, waving Emma behind the screen. I handed Anna a clean sheet and told her, 'have Emma lie back on the exam couch when she's finished undressing.'

Emma had been sketchy on the date of her last menstrual cycle, but after I measured her belly, I estimated the gestational age of the fetus to be approximately 28 weeks. 'Your due date will more than likely be mid-to late October. I'm going to send you to Truro to have a scan, which will be able to pin down a more accurate date. I am also going to schedule a glucose tolerance test to rule out gestational diabetes, and Anna will take some blood before you leave today,' I told her brusquely. I took out the fetal heart monitor and placed it on her exposed belly. The sound of the heartbeat was loud and clear.

'Is it supposed to be that fast?' Emma asked, biting her lip with worry.

'The average fetal heart rate is 120 beats per minute; it's within the normal range.' We listened a second longer, and I saw Emma relax a bit and break into a smile. I glanced at Anna, whose eyes were large and shining. Although she was smiling, she looked to be struggling to maintain her composure. I looked at her quizzically, but she only shook her head slightly.

A brief routine pelvic exam revealed nothing out of the ordinary. 'Get dressed. Anna will make you an appointment—I'll want to see you again in two weeks,' I told Emma, removing my surgical gloves. 'I am also prescribing you prenatal vitamins, which you should have begun taking when you found out you were pregnant.'

'Thank you, doctor,' she answered in a small voice. 'I know I should have come in sooner…I just…well…' she trailed off, shrugging.

Anna squeezed her hand. 'The important thing is you came in today. Now, go ahead and get dressed,' she said, pulling the screen around Emma.

After Anna did Emma's blood work and scheduled her next appointment, Emma left. I immediately locked the front door and went to finish the day's paperwork at my desk in the consulting room. Anna came in a minute later.

'Thank you again for letting me stay with Emma,' she said. 'She's become attached to me, I guess—and I do feel protective of her. Her mother died a few years ago, and her father hasn't spoken a word to her since she got married. Her so-called 'husband' is eighteen, can't manage to hold down a job for more than a few months at a time, and spends most of his time with his mates at the pub. She has no one else.'

'She needs to take better care of herself—and now she has a baby to look after as well,' I commented. I continued to make notes as Anna approached my desk, and I glanced up at her.

'Stand up, please,' she instructed, motioning with her hand.

'Why?' I asked warily.

'Because I'm leaving, and before I do, I'm going to hug you.'

I was incredulous. 'What—now?' I exclaimed. 'Anna, I don't think…this is highly…'

'Oh, hush. There's no one here, and I told you to get used to it. Just humor me.' She pulled on my arm, and I reluctantly stood up. She snaked her arms around me and pulled me toward her. I awkwardly returned the hug, my face burning from a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment.

After a few seconds, Anna stepped back and peered up at me. 'Hmm,' she nodded, impressed. 'Not bad, Martin. I think you're getting the hang of it.' I gave her a withering look.

'Are you going to insist on doing this every time you see me?' I groused.

'Yup,' she answered firmly. 'Are you going to insist on pretending that you don't really like it?' She raised one eyebrow at me, challenging me to deny it. My mouth opened to reply, then closed again abruptly. How was I supposed to answer that question? Before I could say anything, her face broke into a grin.

'Uh-huh. That's what I thought,' she nodded. 'Right—so now that's over with, I'm going home. I'll see you in the morning.' She reached up and straightened the knot of my tie, her hand lingering on my chest for a fraction of a second. I swallowed convulsively.

'Yes. Good,' I croaked, my voice wobbling. I held her gaze and added, 'uh...tomorrow.' There was a palpable charge in the air between us; after she exited the room, I sank into my chair, no longer trusting my knees to support my weight. My God, what was this woman doing to me?

I sat there stupidly for a few minutes, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. Just as I was beginning to feel like myself again, my mobile rang. I looked at the incoming phone number and was surprised to see it was Louisa calling.

'Louisa?' I glanced at my watch, but I already knew it was past school hours—there was not much chance of her calling because of an incident with one of the children.

She answered in a rush, 'I'm at Danny's Mum's and…I dunno, he's collapsed…I've called an ambulance, but…can you come?' I could hear the edge of panic in her voice.

Without hesitation, I told her, 'yes—I'll be right there.'

_**Many thanks to Melinda H. for answering all my stupid medical questions. I owe her a lot of gummy bears.**_


End file.
